


Wolfsbane

by Captain_Kieren



Category: The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Bigby is pining after Snow but only subtley, But they are real Fables, Case Fic, Gen, Hurt Bigby, In the sense that they are actual fairy tales, Includes Fables not mentioned in the comic or the game, Includes mention of choices made during the game, Mentions of the Crooked Man case, Post Game, Post episode 5, mind language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4368701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Kieren/pseuds/Captain_Kieren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a month after Bigby throws the Crooked Man down the Well, a new Fable moves into town.  No one appears to know her and her story isn't in any of the books.  When Bigby takes it upon himself to find out who she really is, he discovers she might just be the most dangerous Fable he's ever encountered...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

> To be entirely honest, I'm not very clear on the layout of Fabletown so I apologize if some of the logistics of this story are wrong.

The alleyway is narrow and crowded with garbage. Despite it being nearly midday, the cramped corridor is fairly dark, the sheriff's eyes glowing in the dim light. Bigby scowls at the foul smelling trashbags that line the walls and inhales the fumes of his cigarette a little deeper than usual, hoping to mask the stench as he strides past stacks of damp cardboard boxes and piles of filthy clothes. It's only when he's sidestepping through a heap of decomposing paper products that he realizes he's alone. Frowning, he turns and folds his arms.

  
"What're you doing, Flycatcher? I thought you said you knew where this thing was."

  
"I, I do Sheriff...just...I mean, the last time I was here..."

  
"I know," Bigby sighs, massaging the headache out of his brow. "Snow already told me the whole story. But you don't have to worry, Flycatcher, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Now, would you please just show me where you found it."

  
Flycatcher hesitates for a moment before sighing in defeat and nodding his head. "Um, yeah. Right this way, Sheriff." He leads Bigby through the alley, around three corners to where he'd been cleaning up the night before. In this area, the the pavement is clearer, the trash cleared away. Flycatcher has obviously been working hard, as usual. Although he hasn't been able to do anything for the smell...

  
Bigby's eyes narrow at the sight of it and he drops his cigarette, rubbing it into the ground with the toe of his shoe. The orange spray paint drips down the concrete wall in rivulets, and the sheriff scowls, his suspicious confirmed. "Well, you weren't wrong, Fly." He grumbles. "Whoever did this is definitely the same guy we've been lookin' for the past few weeks."

  
Bigby plants his hands on his hips and takes a step back from the vandalism. It's huge. Nearly as tall as he is. Must have taken most of a bottle of paint to do this.  
"So...have you and Miss White figured anything out yet?"

  
"Nothing substantial." Bigby says, turning in a full circle as he scans the rooftops towering far overhead. Strange. The alley is a dead end. They shouldn't have been able to escape without doubling back past Flycatcher... "Tell me again _exactly_ what happened."

  
Flycatcher sighs deeply but begins his story for probably the tenth time since he first contacted Snow about it yesterday evening. "Grimble was complaining about the alley being really packed with trash, apparently Fables have started dumping their stuff here instead of taking it to the landfill or paying for a garbage collector. Personally, I--"  
"Alright, you can skip this part." Bigby says, rolling his eyes.

  
"Um, sorry. Anyway, I came down here last night to straighten the place up a little. I was almost done for the night when I heard footsteps behind me. Someone in dark clothes came running up to me, shoved me into the wall, grabbed a few loose coins out of my pocket and took off. Scared the life outta me..." Flycatcher explains, still looking a little shaken up at the memory.

  
"Which direction did they go?"

  
Fly shrugs. "I was standing over there." He says, pointing around the corner nearer the mouth of the alley. "He came this way and then disappeared."

  
Bigby nods his head and turns around again, staring at the bright orange snake adorning the concrete wall. Huge, brightly colored, and depicting a snake curling in toward it's own tail... "Thanks for the help, Flycatcher. You can go ahead and clean up the spray paint."

  
"You don't want to preserve the evidence?"

  
"Nah, I've already learned everything I can from this one. I can't track any scents here, the smell of the trash is too strong."

  
Flycatcher nods obediently but doesn't move as the sheriff starts to walk away. He remains in place, wringing his hands. "Sheriff?"

  
"Hm?"

  
"Whoever they are, they're not a Mundy, are they?" He asks nervously. Mundy crime in Fabletown is rare but it does happen. It's more common that Fable-commited crime, that's for sure. Especially since the Crooked Man fiasco last month.

  
"Don't think so." The sheriff admits. "It would take a pretty strong Fable to be able to scale this wall and get onto the rooftop, which is the only way the thief could have gotten out of here without you seeing them. A Mundy just wouldn't be able to do it."

  
Flycatchers pulls a rag out of his jumpsuit pocket and nods his head, eyes still downcast. "Well, I hope you catch them soon. Something doesn't feel right about this..."

  
"Couldn't agree with you more." Bigby mumbles, taking out his box of Huff n' Puffs. He holds it out, offering one to Fly, who shakes his head.

  
"No thanks, I don't smoke."

  
Bigby shrugs with one shoulder and then turns walk out of the alley, lighting one with a flick of his lighter. "Thanks for your help, Flycatcher. I'll let you know as soon I find something out."

  
"Happy to help, Sheriff."

  
A few seconds later, the sheriff is back out on the street. He strides down the sidewalk to the payphone on the outside of the Candlestick Diner. Picking it up, he drops in a pair of quarters and jabs out the number of the business office. It rings twice before picking up. "Snow, it's Bigby... Yeah, I just got done with him... Nah, nothing we didn't already know... Yeah, I'm heading back that way now... Ok, what's her name? Bianca... Alright, be there soon, bye."

* * *

  
For the first time in years, the hallway outside the business office is blissfully empty. With the Crooked Man rotting at the bottom of the Witching Well and Snow working double time to ensure every Fable gets taken care of when they need it, it's seems Fabletown is finally starting to calm down. Bigby walks down the center of the hall, smoking the last of his cigarette as he passes his own office and continues on toward Snow's. He doesn't bother knocking before pushing the heavy wooden doors open and stepping inside.

  
"Ah, Mr. Wolf." Snow White stands up from her seat behind Crane's old desk and smiles politely. The young woman sitting at her desk turns and smiles as well. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice." Snow rounds the desk and although her pretty face conceals it well, her stern eyes say 'be nice' as she motions to the woman. "This is Bianca. She's a prospective member of Fabletown needing a pre-amnesty interview."

  
The young woman--Bianca--rises from her seat and extends a hand toward him for him to kiss it, as per usual of the Homelands. "It's nice to meet you, Sheriff." She says pleasantly. Bigby shakes her hand instead and she looks confused for a moment.

  
"Likewise." He replies. "Snow tells me you arrived from the Homelands last week?"

  
"That's correct." She confirms, folding her hands modestly across her stomach.

  
"And you've only _just now_ applied for membership to the town?"

  
"Um, well, I--"

  
"Sheriff." Snow cuts in, flashing an apologetic smile Bianca's way. "I know you're eager to begin the interview but perhaps you should wait until you reach your own office." She suggests carefully, nodding to the figure of Blue Beard standing a few yards away by a bookcase near the Magic Mirror. Of course Bigby smelled he was there but he hadn't given it much thought. Nor had he considered his question part of the interview. He'd just wanted to know why Bianca had waited so long to apply. Most Fables come here with membership being their foremost priority. But maybe Snow is right. The last thing Bigby needs is Blue Beard drilling him for information on the new girl if he hears anything suspicious. And everything is _suspiciou_ s to Blue Beard.

  
"Right." He agrees. "Come on, we'll continue this in my office." He turns and heads for the door, hearing that Bianca hesitates a moment before following him. And when she does, her steps are quiet, even on the hard-stone floor. She's a timid thing. But then, that's not unusual with women fresh out of the Homelands. Hell, it took Snow a few years here before she really began to speak up for herself. Now look at her. Bossin' around the Big Bad Wolf.

  
Bigby waits for Bianca at the threshhold, motioning her through before reaching in to shut the door behind them. He rolls his eyes at the sound of Blue Beard immediately starting on Snow about Fabletown funds. Again. He leads Bianca down the hall toward the door marked Security Office. Once inside, he tells her to have a seat and he sits down across the desk from her. He picks up a half-smoked cigarette from the ash tray beside the sloppy stack of files laid out across the table and lights it. Relaxing into his chair and allows himself a good look at her for the first time. Chances are, she'll be moving in soon. Better get to know her face since he'll be seeing her around now. Looks mid-twenties, straight brown hair, tawny hazel eyes... "Now, back to what we were saying before." He begins. "Why _did_ you wait a week before applying for general amnesty?"

  
Bianca, whose gaze is lingering curiously at the cigarette in his hand, only shrugs lamely. "To be honest, Sheriff, leavin' the Homelands was just such a...flurry." She sighs. "It all went so fast. Between findin' a temporary place to stay, getting more...befitting clothes, and getting used to this strange world in general, seven days went by very quickly."

  
Bigby, admittedly, pauses for a moment. It makes sense. Despite how many centuries it's been, he can still remember his first days here. He'd been among the first...and the last. The first of the Fables to defy the Adversary and join those leaving the Homelands but one of the last of those original pioneers to actually come here. Those days had been so frantic and confused. Months disappeared in the blink of an eye. Years felt like weeks. So, sure, he understands what she means. Even nowadays when things are more organized, it's still gotta be pretty hectic. Those still living in the Homelands aren't accustomed to the hustle and bustle of twenty-first century life.

  
So why doesn't he believe her?

  
Call it animal instinct...

  
"Still, busy or not, applying for membership is usually one of the first things newcomers do. They're usually pretty interested getting their general-amnesty." Folding his hands on the top of the desk, he asks, "Aren't you, Bianca?"

  
Now it's her turn to pause. A thoughtful look touching her delicate face. "To be honest, Sheriff, not in particular..."

  
Bigby's brow furrow at that. Not in particular?

  
"I mean, yes, a'course I am but...the general amnesty is for those Fables who've committed terrible deeds in the Homelands and require a clean slate in order to coexist with their fellow town members...or so I've heard." She says. "But, Mr. Wolf, I've not done anything to need such forgiveness. My priorities upon arriving here were to find a place to stay and...convince myself that I'd made the right decision in coming here. So I apologize if my delay caused any kind of inconvenience for you or Miss White...but I hope you understand my reasoning."

  
The sheriff stares at her for a second. Mostly because his ears are no longer used to the way Fables speak in the Homelands. The thick accent and such proper vernacular was never something he used so he barely understood it back then... But now? It takes a moment for him to digest it all. But when he does, he sighs deeply and sits back again. "Of course." He says and she allows a small smile. "I guess I'm used to people really wanting that clean slate after all the shit they've had to do in the Homelands to stay alive."

  
"I understand." She assures him. "I'm just one of the fortunate ones who didn't have to break any laws to get by, I suppose."

  
Bigby leans down, rifling through his desk drawers for a moment before producing a notepad and a pen, which he clicks open and poises over the paper. "Alright, let's move on to the actual interview."

  
Bianca nods and folds her hands on her lap.

  
"Name."

  
She raises an eyebrow but answers anyway. "Bianca."

  
"That short for anything? Got a last name? A title?"

  
"No. Just Bianca."

  
Bigby jots that down on his notepad, but writes a quick question mark beside it. He still isn't sure why he doesn't trust this... "Age?"

  
"Twenty-two."

  
"Story?"

  
At this Bianca hesitates. "What do you mean, Sheriff?" She asks.

  
"I mean what's the title of your story. The run-down, basic details." He explains.

  
"Ah," That uncomfortable look returns to her face and she shifts in her seat. "My story isn't terribly well-known, Sheriff." She admits. "The humans have only written it down a handful of times...I wouldn't be surprised if there's nothing at all on it in those books of Miss White's."

  
"All the more reason to give me as much as you can tell me." Bigby mutters and, with that, she appears to give in.

  
"As you wish, Sheriff." Bianca leans back in her chair and begins her story. "My story is simply called Bianca."

* * *

  
_"Once upon a time there was a peasant girl named Bianca. She lived on the outskirts of a small village with her parents and sister, whom she loved very much. One day, her parents died from plague and she was left alone with only her sister, Samantha. They had to sell their home to afford food and clothing for the winter and went to live in the woods near the village. But Bianca soon fell ill and needed medicine. So Samantha went to a nearby city in search for work. Each day, she left their forest to work in the city and each night she returned with a little medicine for Bianca, who soon began to get better. But one night, Samantha didn't return. So Bianca gathered what little supplies she could carry and ventured to the city in search for her beloved sister. But she never found her. A terrible monster had found Samantha on her way back to the woods and it killed her and threw her body down a deep, dark ravine. Never to be found again. The peasant girl Bianca was alone forever more."_

* * *

  
"...that was an awful story."

  
Bianca raises an eyebrow at Bigby and frowns.

  
"Sorry."

  
"It's fine. Now you see why the Mundies aren't particularly fond of my tale."

  
"I certainly do." He admits softly. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry. About your, uh..." Before Bigby can finish, Bianca raises her hand to silence him.

  
"Don't apologize, Sheriff. That tale took place almost three hundred years ago and, like most of our lives, the ending the Mundies gave me didn't hold fast for very long. I wasn't 'alone forever more'. I'm here now."

  
"Still, that must have been hard."

  
A sad smile graces her lips and she nods. "It was at the time, yes. But things are different now. Better."

  
"I hope so." Bigby stands up, placing the notepad down on the desk, deciding he'll fill in her story once she's gone. "Thank you for your cooperation, Bianca. I'll send this down to Snow and she'll get back to you as soon as possible."

  
"Thank you, Mr. Wolf." She says, standing as well. "If you need anything else, I'm staying in the tenement building seven blocks down. The apartment number unfortunately escapes me at the moment but I believe the clerk told me it previously belonged to a Mr...Toad, was it?"

  
_She's in Toad's old apartment?_ "Good to know, and good luck, Bianca."

  
"Goodbye for now, Mr. Wolf."

  
Bigby waits until she's out the door and her footsteps are out of hearing range before picking up the phone and hitting Snow's speed dial.

  
_"Business Office. Snow White speaking."_

  
"Snow? It's Bigby."

  
_"Oh, how'd it go with Bianca?"_

  
"It was...interesting. I'm gonna go run a quick errand but I need you to do something for me. Have Bufkin look up anything he can find on Bianca in the books."

  
_"Why? Is something wrong?"_

  
"I don't know yet...that's what I'm about to go find out."


	2. Liar Liar

Bianca is easy enough to track. Unlike a lot of Fables who've been here longer, her smell isn't masked by layers of artificial scents. She isn't wearing perfume, the only cigarette smell clinging to her is that of his own office, and the Homeland itself hangs heavily on her skin. Like pine needles, fresh air, and wool clothing. Bigby stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks casually down the street in Bianca's footsteps. He can't see her from this distance but she isn't that far ahead of him. Maybe by ten, twenty minutes. He waited just long enough to ensure she wouldn't see him before slipping out of his office to follow behind her.

  
Honestly, Bigby isn't sure what he's planning to find by following her. But something just doesn't feel right. More than that, the rash of theft and vandalism started just about the same time she showed up in town. Sure, it could be a coincidence... But better safe than sorry, as the Mundies say.

  
He trails her seven blocks down Bullfinch Street until he finds himself standing outside of Toad's old tenement. A pang of guilt resonates in the sheriff's gut at the memory of TJ sniffling pitifully in the back of the truck, handing him the beetle to give to Snow. So she is living in Toad's old place, then. At least that part is true.

  
Bigby starts to walk toward the building but stops himself. What's he planning? Just walk in and...what? Officially, he has no reason to be suspicious of Bianca. At least until Bufkin gets back to him about her story. Going in there with no explanation will only cause more problems. No, for now, he should focus his investigation on the facts. Maybe talk to Flycatcher a bit more. Or another of the victims. The sheriff is just turning around to leave when he hears it...

  
"AHH!" He whips around to face the direction of the woman's scream. It came from the tenement... Bianca. He takes off running, stopping only to look at the clerk at the front desk, who jabs a finger up the stairs. The further up he goes, the more he hears. Bigby can make out the sound of a struggle. Shouting and furniture being knocked over. Something glass falling to the floor and shattering. He reaches the door to Toad's old place and scowls. The sound is definitely coming from in here. He doesn't bother wasting time with pleasantries.

  
BAM!

  
The door explodes inward with the force of his kick and Bigby growls angrily at the sight of a man dressed in black and wearing a mask standing over Bianca's cowering form. He can smell the blood dripping from her nose.

  
Bianca's attacker stiffens at the sight of him and some deeply buried part of Bigby revels at the fear in his posture. A split-second later, the man is fleeing toward the open window. But he's not fast enough. Bigby catches his shoulder and wrestles him back into the room, throwing him to the floor. The man lays there for a moment, stunned. In which time, Bigby makes a grab for his mask but misses by a fraction of an inch when he rolls out of the way, swinging his leg just right to knock Bigby's out from under him.  
The sheriff falls backwards, his head striking the floor hard enough to see stars and in the time it takes for him to recover, the man has run out the door. Cursing loudly, Bigby stumbles to his feet and takes off after him.

  
He catches up about halfway down the second flight of stairs and narrowly misses grabbing him when the man suddenly jumps down the remaining steps, landing heavily by the clerk's desk before fleeing out the front door.

  
Bigby snarls deep in his throat and picks up speed, following him out the door and tracking his scent until he finds him in an alley across the street. The man is nimbly jumping a wire fence when Bigby snatches his ankle, yanking him mercilessly down onto the paved ground. Bianca's attacker grunts in pain and goes still. For a moment, the sheriff thinks he's lost consciousness. But then--

  
BANG!

  
Bigby yelps as pain explodes in his leg. How did he miss the son of a bitch pulling a gun out of his jacket?! Another round goes off, this time sending Bigby to his knees as the familiar warmth of blood soaks his shirt. He's stunned for a moment and in that time, the shooter scrambles to his feet, leveling the gun with Bigby's forehead. His finger grazes the trigger and he's about to pull it when a shadow passes behind him.

  
With the satisfying crack of bone breaking, the man collapses to the ground, blood seeping from his head as Bianca lowers the hammer and finally drops it, her hands trembling fiercely. "Sh-Sheriff?!" She gasps, "A-are you alright?!"

  
"Ughh..." Bigby groans, pulling himself to his feet. "Yeah, I'm alright." He covers the wound on his stomach with one hand rubs the back of his head with the other. "Thanks for the save. I might not have been if you hadn't shown up when you did..."

  
Bianca swallows thickly and nods. She looks nauseous. "Is he...dead?" She whispers and Bigby snorts.

  
"Nah, he's alright. Fables are a little harder to kill here than in the Homelands. A little rest and he'll be good as new." Pulling the shackles from his belt, Bigby snaps them on the man's wrists. "But by then, he'll be in jail. Come on, let's get him to the business office."

  
Bianca helps Bigby pull the man up and they drag him to the curb, smiling impishly as they thumb a cab.

* * *

  
"Thanks for the ride, Jill." Bigby says as he slides out of the taxi, dragging the unconscious shooter with him.

  
"Always happy to help, Sheriff...but you still owe me for new seat covers." The driver says, motioning to the blood-soaked seats.

  
"Of course..." Bianca shuts the cab door and helps Bigby drag the man through the front door, into the elevator, and then finally into the detention cell. Once he's safely locked away, they head up to Snow's office.

  
The Deputy Mayor is facing away from the door when they enter, shuffling some papers on her desk. "Bigby, how many times do I have to tell you to knock before--" Snow's eyes go almost comically wide at the sight of the blood soaking Bigby's shirt and pant leg and the dried blood under Bianca's nose. "Jesus, Bigby! What happened!"

  
The sheriff shrugs impishly. "Bianca was being attacked by a masked man in her apartment. I stepped in to help."

  
Snow, although obviously trying to regain her professional composure, still looks shaken. "Of course you did." She mutters. "Well, sit down while I call Doctor Swineheart. We'll talk about the attack while we wait for him."

* * *

  
"And you're sure you don't know anyone who would want to hurt you?" Snow asks gently, her hand resting on Bianca's trembling shoulder.

  
"I'm certain. I do not know anyone here well enough for them to want to cause me harm. Or...at least I thought I didn't..." By now, Bianca's nose is covered in ugly purple bruises but it's not broken so Swineheart just is having her hold an ice pack on it for a while. Other than that, she's just got a few scrapes on her face and arms but she isn't hurt. Thankfully.

  
Bigby, on the other hand...

  
"And here I thought you'd fnally learned how to take care of yourself, Old Boy." Swineheart says, as he plucks out the bullet from Bigby's abdomen. "How long has it been? A month? That must be some kind of record."

  
"Yeah, yeah..." The sheriff grumbles, trying to listen in on the conversation Snow is carrying with Bianca.

  
"Well, you don't need to worry. He's in custody now so he won't be able to hurt you anymore." Bianca smiles at her as she stands up.

  
"Thank you for your kind words, Miss White. And your help, Sheriff. But if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my apartment now. A few things were broken and I should get them cleaned up."

  
"Of course, Bianca." Snow says, showing her to the door as Swineheart moves his attention to Bigby's leg. "Let us know if you need anything."

  
Bianca smiles as she closes the door and Bigby listens to the sound of her footsteps receding into the distance, flinching when Swineheart pulls out the other bullet with his pliers. It falls into the bloody dish with a _plink_ and then the doctor stands up and brushes off his jacket.

  
"Well, that should do it." He says, taking a roll of bandages from his bag and using them to wrap Bigby's wounds. "You'll be good as new by tomorrow."

  
"Thanks." Bigby grumbles, straightening up and rolling his shoulders, listening to the pop of stiff joints.

  
"Thank you, Doctor Swineheart." Snow says, finally walking over to join them. "I'll ensure he only has light duty until then."

  
"Please see that he does." With that, he heads for the door as well, letting them rattle closed behind him. The quiet is immediately met with Snow's heavy, distressed sigh. The deputy mayor turns around and crosses her arms at Bigby.

  
"So you want to try and catch me up now?" She huffs in annoyance. "All I got out of Bianca is that she left your office, went home, and got attacked."

  
"Well that is what happened..." Bigby says, not missing the flicker of irritation on her face.

  
"Bigby--"

  
"Alright, alright. I trailed her from my office to her apartment because I got some bad feelings during her interview. By the time I showed up, she was getting attacked. I heard her scream so I ran in and grabbed the guy."

  
"And got shot twice."

  
"Yeah. And got shot twice."

  
Snow massages her temples as she sinks down into the chair Swineheart had been using. She obviously tries not to look at Bigby until he disappears beind the screen to put his shirt back on. Sure, it's covered in blood and has a hole in it but it's better than nothing. "So what did you find out about her? In the interview."

  
"That's just it, Snow, I didn't find out really anything."

  
"What?"

  
Bigby is readjusting his tie when he comes out from behind the screen. Sinking down onto the edge of her desk, he explains. "She was able to tell me her entire story. Word for word. You know how rare that is?"

  
"Word for word?" Snow raises her eyebrows. "I've been living here for centuries and I still don't know my whole story word for word..."

  
"Exatly. Neither do I."

  
"So you're saying it was rehearsed?" Snow asks him but Bigby shakes his head.

  
"I'm saying I think she wrote it herself."

  
"What...?"

  
But instead of answering, Bigby asks, "How's Bufkin making out with the stuff I asked for?"

  
"Um, I'm not sure. I was busy with Blue Beard right up until you came in." Snow stands from her chair and calls out for Bufkin, who glides over to the desk a few seconds later, a bottle grasped in his hand.

"Yes, Miss White?"

  
Snow narrows her eyes at the flying monkey, specifically the bottle, and folds her arms. "Bufkin, did you find the notes Bigby was looking for?"

  
"Um, no...Miss White."

  
"Lemme guess. You were drinking." Bigby shakes his head.

  
"No! Well...yes...but not until a few moments ago!"

  
Bigby sighs irritably and snatches the bottle from Bufkin's hand. Popping the cork off, he takes a long swig to dull the pain. Shrugging at Snow's annoyed look. "Do you really think that's a good idea right now, Bigby? We need to stay focused."

  
"Relax, Snow, I can't actually get drunk..." He mutters, "Just helps the pain."

  
She nods her head and turns back to Bufkin.

  
"I spent the majority of the time looking for anything on Bianca but there's just...nothing. No photos or documents from the Homelands, no record of a story, nothing in the books at all."

  
"It's like she doesn't exist..." Snow mutters thoughtfully.

  
"It's because she doesn't. At least not the way she's presented herself to us." Bigby decides. "When I was talking to her, everything she was saying felt like a lie even though it sounded so sincere... If she were telling the truth, we'd have something on her, there'd be a record of her _somewhere_. I don't know who she is but one thing's for certain. Either she's an incredibly good liar, or she actually believes everything she's saying is true and she doesn't remember who she really is."


	3. Flown The Coop

The Woodlands's lobby is only dimly lit by the time Bigby returns home for the night. Grimble--as usual--is fast alseep at his desk, his legs resting on the top of the counter, his hat tipped down over his eyes. A wet floor sign is leaned against the wall next to the elevator but Flycatcher's bucket and mop are put away for the night. Everyone is already asleep so Bigby wonders distantly what time it is. The hours always go by so fast when he gets caught up in a case. Looking up at the clock above Grimble's desk, the sheriff's eyebrows arc up in surprise when it reads half-past one. In the morning.

  
Sighing deeply, Bigby scratches at the stubble on his jaw and heads for the elevator. Jabbing the button, he waits as the numbers begin to count down.

  
He isn't sure what draws his attention but just before the lift doors slide open, Bigby finds himself staring at the mailboxes on the wall. His brow knitting at the sight of his own hanging open... Ignoring the ding of the elevator telling him to enter, he goes to the open mailbox and peers inside. There's a letter.

  
The elevator bings again but still Bigby ignores it. Frowning, he takes the letter out and turns it over in his hands, looking for an address, a name, anything. But there's nothing there. The envelope is blank. Tearing open the seal, he takes out the paper within.

  
_Sheriff Wolf,_

_Firstly, I would like to apologize for the trouble I caused you today. It is my sincerest wish that your wounds heal quickly. However, I would like one more chance to speak with you tonight. Forgive me for not asking this of you earlier but I did not want to interrupt your investigations with Miss White. If you may, meet me outside my apartment building as soon as you can. I promise I will not take too much of your time._

_~Bianca_

  
"Well, this oughta be interesting."

* * *

  
"Sheriff!" Bigby finds Bianca sitting on the curb outside her apartment building. The young woman smiles happily at the sight of him and quickly rises to her feet. "I must admit, I wasn't certain whether you'd come..."

  
"Well, I almost didn't." He says. "You realize how late it is?"

  
"Yes, I'm sorry, Sheriff..." She sighs, wringing her hands. "But as I promised, I won't detain you much longer. I didn't want to say anything back in the business office for fear of interrupting your investigations...and also because I wasn't entirely sure I was going to do it until a few hours ago but...I'm leaving town."

  
"What? You just got here."

  
"I know... And it's not that this place doesn't seem wonderful...It's just that...well I've only been here a week and already I'm fairly certain I'm not cut out for this kind of living. You must understand, Sheriff, that before coming here I lived in the woods. Alone. No one bothered me. No one even knew I was there most of the time. But now..." She heaves a heavy breath and looks down. "I've been here only a week and already I've been attacked. I got you wounded. I'm just...I don't think I should stay, is all. I just thought someone should know."

  
"Bianca--" Bigby starts to protest but she cuts him off.

  
"I know what you're going to say, Mr. Wolf. I've not given Fabletown a chance. It's a great place with so many opportunities our kind has never experienced and I'm just giving it up because I'm _frightened_...? Well what else can I do?"

  
Bigby stares for a moment, confused. He isn't sure what he expected to happen when he came here but this certainly isn't it. She already wants to leave town? "Look, I'm sorry your first week here hasn't been great but I assure you Fabletown isn't always this dangerous. It's just bad luck."

  
"Bad luck?" Bianca snorts in dry amusement. "Sheriff, you got shot. Twice."

  
"And by now, they're just bruises." He retorts, crossing his arms.

  
Bianca sighs, looking defeated. "You...you really think I should stay? Even after what happened?" She asks softly, her eyes tentitively lifting from the ground to meet his. Admittedly, Bigby hesitates. In any other circumstance, he would tell her to do what she thinks is right. He wouldn't try to force her to stay or go.

  
But this is Bianca. He's been suspicious of her since the first time he laid eyes on her. He can't just let her get away...

  
"I think you should stay." He says as genuinely as possible. "Give Fabletown another chance. It's not as dangerous as it seems."

  
For a moment, Bianca doesn't say anything. She stares at Bigby as if trying to puzzle him out, something akin to...suspicion in her otherwise innocent eyes. "If you think I should stay, Sheriff, I will..." She mutters.

  
"Well, I do."

  
Bianca frowns to herself but nods her head. "Very well." But then, before Bigby can say anything in response, she's smirking almost defiently. "I'll stay, Sheriff, on one condition..."  
"And what would that be?" He asks curiously.

  
"You let me buy you breakfast tomorrow morning. As thanks for all your help." Her giggle is too innocent.

* * *

  
"Move it, Colin, I'm exhausted." Bigby grumbles, jabbing his roommate's flabby side.

  
The pig cracks open one eye and snorts at him. "Long night?" Colin drags himself to his feet and down onto the floor from Bigby's chair, flopping down against a stack of old newspapers.

  
"You could say that..." The sheriff breathes out a relieved groan upon sinking onto the comfortable cushion. Sure, it's a couple decades old now and stained with his blood from the whole Bloody Mary thing... But it's still his favorite seat and he doesn't plan to get rid of it. Even if it does smell like a pig now.

  
"Any new leads on the vandalisms?"

  
"Sort of." Bigby admits and Colin raises...well, not an eyebrow. He doesn't have eyebrows. But whatever the pig equivalent of an eyebrow is. "There's a new Fable in Fabletown." He says. "Bianca."

  
"Suspicious?"

  
"I'm not sure. She seems innocent enough but...I don't know. I just have a feeling."

  
"Sometimes feelings are all you've got to go by."

  
"Yeah well--"

  
"You know what I'm feeling? Hungry. You wanna call for food?"

  
"Colin, I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep."

  
"You know you don't have food in this place, right? I've been waiting for you to get home, Bigby! I'm wasting away here."

  
"Yeah you look like you're really suffering..." With a grunt, Bigby pulls himself back off his chair and over to the phone. "Chinese?"

  
"Sounds good to me."

* * *

  
"Business office, please hold. Hello? Beauty? Are you still there? Good, I'm sorry, I promise it will only be a few more minutes. Yes, I--yes, I know. Just hold a few more minutes. Hello, Holly? I know you've been waiting for--yes, just come down to the office. Yes, I'll take care of it. Yes, I know, I--ok. Okay, yes, come down. I'll see you soon, bye. Oh for the love of... Business office, please hold. Beauty? Is this a matter that can be dealt with over the phone or do you want to--oh, Beast. I'm sorry, I didn't realize...just hang on a second." Snow covers the mouthpiece of the phone before yelling for Bufkin over her shoulder. "I could use your help!"

  
"Sorry, Miss White!" The flying monkey lands heavily on the desk, the bottle of wine in his hand landing even heavier... "I was detained."

  
"I can see that." Sighing, she rubs her forehead with the palm of her hand. "I've got three calls on hold. Start with line four, please. Pinocchio has been waiting for almost twenty minutes." When Bufkin does as instructed, she thanks him and then returns to her call. "Beast? Are you still there? Oh, Beauty, hi. Ok, I think I can talk now. Yes, I'm aware you've been waiting for the replacement for a while now but there's only so much I can--yes, yes of course I--Beauty, I'm doing all I--just..."

  
It's at this moment that Bigby opens the door, his eyebrows raising up at the sight Snow looking like she might punch a hole in her desk any second now. But when she sees him, a look of relief washes over her.

  
"Listen, Beauty. I'm sorry for your inconvenience but there's really nothing I can do right now. You've just got to be patient, the replacement will be there within the next few days. But for now, the Sheriff has just come in so I need to talk to him for a few moments. ...sorry, that's Official Fabletown Business, I can't discuss it at this time. Call back tomorrow if it's still not there, alright? Okay, bye." Snow hangs up the phone and stands up from her desk slowly, as if she hasn't moved in hours and her legs are cramped.

  
"Busy day?" Bigby asks sympathetically.

  
"No worse than usual." She shrugs, smiling. But it soon fades. "Any new developments on the case? I tried calling your apartment last night but there was no answer..."  
"Sorry, I didn't get in until kinda late." He admits. "But yeah, there's been...something. I don't know if you'd call it a development though."

  
"What is it?"

  
"I met with Bianca last night." He reveals and Snow looks surprised.

  
"Again?"

  
"Yeah. She left a note in my mailbox asking me to meet her outside her apartment."

  
Snow frowns and folds her arms over her chest, looking thoughtful. "What did she want?"

  
"That's the kicker. She told me she wanted to leave town..."

  
"What?"

  
"Yeah, I was a little taken aback too." Bigby admits, scratching the stubble on his chin. "I didn't really know what to say so I told her to give Fabletown another chance. She's staying for now but...I don't know. Something's going on here, Snow."

  
"I agree. Do you really think she's somehow involved in these vandalisms?"

  
"I'm not sure yet. I'm gonna talk to her a little more this morning since she's my only real lead at the moment. Hopefully, I'll be able to--"

  
_Riiiiing! Riiiiing! Riiiiiing!_

  
"Ugh, Bufkin, can you--" Snow starts to yell, only to stop when she notices that Bufkin is currently hopping back and forth between calls, unable to take another. Sighing she rolls her shoulder and turns back to Bigby.

  
"I'm sorry but I've got to back to work. Do what you have to, Bigby, but be careful. We have no idea who this girl is yet and until we're able to find something on her, we have to assume she's lying. She could be dangerous."

  
"I'm always careful." At the skeptical frown she throws his way, Bigby shrugs lamely and turns for the door. Lighting a cigarette, he glances at the clock. Six in the morning. He overslept... He's only got a few hours before he has to meet Bianca. Just enough time to go through some files and do a bit of paperwork in his office.

* * *

  
The Candlestick Diner is one of the few businesses in Fabletown that regularly have Mundy patrons so Bigby has always made it a point to stay away. It's not that he hasn't anything particularly against the Mundies it just always seemed like more of a risk than it's worth. Besides, he's not really the diner-going type.

  
Except for today, of course.

  
Inside the diner, the air is warmer than the chilly streets outside. The yellow-tinted lights overhead hum audibly and the whole place smells of bacon grease and maple syrup. From the other side of the little window behind the counter, he can hear the hiss of friers and the clatter of dishes and silverware. And beyond that, he can make out just about every other strum of an acoustic guitar from some song being played on the jukebox in the corner.

  
He doesn't know why he lingers in the doorway for so long. He's here on a case, after all. But it's not until a pair of children sitting in a booth beside the door turn to stare at him that he finally moves on, incredibly thankful that there's not a 'No Smoking' sign hanging anywhere in sight. He slips a cigarette between his teeth and lights it a bit urgently, the distracting smells and sounds assaulting his sharp senses already giving him a headache...

  
He spots Bianca sitting alone at a booth near the back of the diner. She smiles and waves him over when she sees him and he slips into the seat across from her. A waitress arrives right after him.

  
"Coffee?" She asks tiredly. Bigby searches her face, wondering if she's a Fable, but decides she must not be. Strange that Hansel and Gretel would hire a human to work for them.

  
"Sure."

  
"Yes, please."

  
The waitress fills both of their mugs and asks if they're ready to order. Bianca goes first and Bigby notices that she asks for some kind of egg prepared a way he's never heard of before. Strange that she would know how Mundies cook their eggs already...let alone have tried it and liked it. He just asks for a couple of pancakes.

  
"You want bacon?"

  
"No thanks."

  
As the waitress walks away, Bianca chuckles. "The Big Bad Wolf doesn't want bacon?"

  
"I'm trying to cut down on my pork."

  
She gives him an incredulous look and shakes her head, still laughing quietly. "Of course you are."

* * *

  
"Wow...the Crooked Man, the Tweedles, Bloody Mary...that's one heck of a conspiracy to unravel on your own..."

  
It started innocently enough. Bianca had asked Bigby what it's like to be Sheriff of Fabletown, saying it must be hard. He'd said it was at times but he always managed. She'd pressed him for an explanation and somehow, as they're finishing up their breakfasts, Bianca has managed to worm just about every detail of the Crooked Man's case out of him.  
"Well I had help." He reminds her gruffly.

  
"I know." She says, smiling. "Speaking of which, I overheard Flycatcher and Grimble talking in the Woodlands when I was dropping off the letter in your mailbox...I know it's none of my business but...do you need any help? I mean, I'm sure you've got it covered but from what Flycatcher was saying, these thefts always take place in area you where you can't track the culprit..."

  
"Bianca--"

  
"I mean, if this guy is smart enough to know how to avoid you then he could be dangerous, right? Who knows what he's up to."

  
"Bianca--"

  
"All I'm saying, Sheriff, is that if you ever need a fresh set of ears to roll some theories off on, I'm available." She smiles again and Bigby's protest dies in his throat. Though he has no idea why.

  
"I'll keep that in mind." He mumbles instead and she smiles happily in response. When did the timid girl from yesterday get so forthcoming? He's about to mention something along those lines, just to gauge her response, when the waitress returns.

  
"Mr. Wolf?" She asks, deadpanned.

  
"Yeah?"

  
"You've got a call in the back. Someone by the name of White?"

  
Bigby nods and the waitress walks away. "I've got to take this. Be back in a second."

  
"Take your time."

  
Bigby finds the payphone at the back of the diner, beside the restrooms, which stink of bleach and powerful deodorizers. He's tempted to light a cigarette to spare his nose but thinks better of it. Picking up the phone, he says, "Snow?"

  
 _"Bigby, we've got a problem."_ She sounds urgent.

  
"What is it?" He demands, turning his back on the diner and lowering his voice.

  
_"I went down to the detention cell to speak to the man who attacked you but he's gone! I asked Grimble, Flycatcher, even a few residents. No one has any idea how he could have gotten out!"_

  
"Shit." Raking a hand through his hair, Bigby glances over his shoulder at Bianca. Come to think of it, she did seem to be in a bit of a hurry to leave the business office the night it happened...said something about some of her things having been broken. Could she have helped him escape? ...but why would she? "Just hang tight. I'll be right there."

  
_"See you soon."_ Click.

  
Bigby places the phone back on the hook and takes a moment to think about his next words carefully before returning to the booth. "Bianca," He says, gaining her attention. "I'm sorry about this but I've got to go. Trouble down at the business office."

  
"What kind of trouble?" She asks quietly, rising from her seat. Her expression is expectant...and suspicious.

  
"The man who attacked us has somehow escaped."

  
"What?!" Her eyes grow wide. She looks worried and a little afraid.

  
"Just relax, we'll get him. Nothing's gonna happen to you." He reaches into his pocket for his wallet to pay for breakfast but before he can place the money on the table, Bianca swats his hand away.

  
Her tone is distant, her eyes troubled when she says, "I'm paying, remember?"

* * *

  
They reach the business office a few minutes later by cab. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, they hurry up the steps and reach Snow's office in record time. Once inside, Bigby finds Snow pacing behind her desk, her arms folded, her head hanging low. It snaps up at the sound of them entering.

  
"Have you been down to the detention cell yet?" She asks, striding toward them.

  
"Not yet."

  
"Well come on, you might be able to pick up his scent..."

* * *

  
Oh Bigby can smell him alright. The whole cell is bathed in the man's scent. Like sweat, gunpowder, and...spray paint. Bigby swears in frustration when he notices that last part. He very well might have had the culprit of the vandalisms right here! And now he's back on the streets somehow...

  
"I don't understand!" He growls, staring at the little metal room. There's no way anyone could have gotten out. Not without help. "He must have had an accomplice."  
"That is the only explanation." Snow agrees from where she's standing in the hallway behind him, trying not to contaminate the smell, probably. "Can you track him?"  
"I don't know, maybe." Bigby grumbles, turning and leaving the cell, an annoyed scowl on his face. "Snow, do me a favor and have Grimble go through all the security footage from last night. Take down the name of every person who was in this building and what time they came and left."

  
"Right."

  
"And Bianca?"

  
"Yes?"

"That offer for help still standing?"

  
Bianca pauses, looking surprised. "Of course, Sheriff."

  
"Great, I think I'm gonna need it."

  
He doesn't miss the look Snow throws his way. It says 'are you sure about this?' and he nods. Trust me, Snow. I know what I'm doing.


	4. For Whom The Bell Tolls

Bigby is immensely grateful it hasn't rained. The scent of his attacker is already faint, even to his nose. Probably a few hours old and washed over by the stench of New York. Had it rained since last night, he probably wouldn't be able to follow it. But the skies are clear today, not a rain cloud in sight...

  
Bianca follows him like a shadow. Silent but always there when he turns his head. She looks determined, focused. Part of him regrets bringing her. If he's wrong and she isn't involved in all this then he could have just placed her in danger. But his gut is still telling him not to trust her. So he can't let her out of his sight. Who knows what she might do if left alone at the business office to wait for them? And he certainly can't send her home...not with the man who tried beating her up back on the streets. This is the only logical solution.

  
The sheriff follows the smell block after block down Bullfinch street. And maybe it's because the man was running but the smell of his sweat just keeps getting stronger. Almost...fresher. If Bigby didn't know any better, he'd think he was on a trail only a few minutes old. But how could that be? The man must have escaped overnight to have passed through the doors unseen. So why wait around for Bigby to catch up to him...?

  
Unfortunately, Bigby doesn't have a lot of time to think about it. A few seconds later, the trail takes a sharp right turn down into a long, dark alleyway. Admittedly, he hesitates. "Bianca, just stay right next to me." He says. "And keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

  
"Of course..."

  
Together, they slowly make their way down the long passage. Bigby's shoes crunching over broken bits of asphalt and crumpled pieces of paper. Bianca clings closely to his side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looks nervous. But he can't really blame her. The hairs on the back of his neck are bristling and he can feel his nails aching to grow into claws...

  
Bigby doesn't see or hear anything, so when Bianca suddenly gasps, he isn't sure what to think. Whipping around reflexively, he finds her staring up at the roof of the building to their left.

  
"Sheriff...!"

  
He looks just in time to see a shadow disappearing over the lip of the roof. He growls when his nose finds the smell of his attacker...startlingly fresh... "That's him." He says quietly. "Bianca, stay right here. I'm gonna try to follow him."

  
Her eyes widen with fear.

  
"Don't worry. Just yell if you need me."

  
She nods so he turns to the roof. It's pretty high up. Maybe twenty, twenty-five feet? The sheriff backs up a few paces to get a running start. Somehow, he manages to reach it. Grabbing on, he heaves himself up, rolls onto his stomach and then jumps to his feet. Slowly, he straightens his tensed back.

  
The roof is empty.

  
Frowning, he considers the odds of the person being able to get to the top of the next building without him hearing it. Not likely but possible, he supposes. Turning, he glances down at Bianca in the alley. "I'll be right back. Stay there."

  
"Where are you going?!"

  
"I'm just gonna check it out a little. I don't see him up here."

  
"How could he have gotten away?!"

  
"I don't know...the building next to us has a few places he could hide. I'm gonna go have a look." Bianca nods shakily and he returns to his search. Crossing the empty rooftop, he hops over to the next building, the space between the two only a few feet wide. Over here, there are a handful of large ventilation outlets going through the ceiling. They stand about four feet high. A grown man could easily hunch down behind one.

  
The whole roof smells like the man. Sweat, gunpowder, and adrenaline. Bigby crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes as he starts slowly making his way across the roof, trying to pinpoint where the smell is coming from.

  
"You're only making this harder on yourself," he calls out gruffly. "If you come out now I might not throw your pathetic ass down the Witching Well."

  
But of course he gets no response.

  
After a moment, Bigby is fairly certain he knows where the man is hiding. The scent there is just too strong for him not to. So carefully, he edges toward the third outlet, vaguely wondering if the guy still has his gun on him. Thinking of that, he feels his claws pulse under his skin, just begging to be released. A little part of him, long buried but not forgotten, wonders how much trouble he'd get in with Snow if he were to just rip this guy apart right here and now... A shiver runs down his spine at the thought of it.

  
Just as he's pushing the urge back down to where it belongs, he's rounding the corner of the outlet. And he freezes. There's no one there. Nothing but a sweat stained, black tee-shirt rolled into a ball.

  
"What the f--"

  
_Pop!_

  
The sound of the gunshot is quiet, muffled. A silencer, he realizes as he sinks to his knees. At first, there's not a lot of pain. Just a strange...tingling buzz under his skin. For a brief moment, he fears it's silver. But he's not writhing in agony so it can't be. Maybe the bullet is dipped in some kind of silver alloy? Or made of some cheap knockoff factory silver that's more copper than the real stuff? Either way, it doesn't feel like a normal bullet and the longer is sits there under his skin, the more intense the tingle becomes. Within seconds, it's more a dull burning sensation...

  
Bigby isn't entirely sure how he ended up on his side, staring at a slowly growing puddle of his own blood. Didn't he just fall to his knees? Why does his head feel so...swimmy?  
He tries to turn, to look over his shoulder at his attacker but something stops him. Namely, the feeling of warm metal pressing against the top of his head.

  
"Don't move." A man's voice urges and Bigby can feel the quake of his hands reverberating through the barrel of the gun.

  
"Look, I really don't want to--"

  
"Shut. Up." The gun presses harder into his skin.

  
Bigby sighs. "Where do you get your ammo?" He asks, grimacing at the steadily increasing fire that's burning under his skin.

  
"I said shut up!"

  
"C'mon, I'm only curious..."

  
"I...I have a supplier. Now just shut up, you're gonna get me in troub--"

  
"That's enough, John. He's down and he won't be getting back up." A voice cuts him off and, admittedly, Bigby stiffens. He almost has the urge to roll his eyes at himself. Called it.

  
"Hey, Bianca..."

  
The gunman lifts his weapon from Bigby's head and backs off a few steps as Bianca strolls over. Bigby can't see her but he can only imagine the smug smile she must be wearing. "Hello, Sheriff." A moment later, the heel of her shoe nudges his shoulder, rolls him onto his back so he can see her. Yep, she's smiling. Probably because he groans at the sudden stab of pain in his side where the bullet feels like it actually might be on fire now. His whole body feels sluggish. He can't move his fingers...

  
"Ready to tell me the truth now?" He asks, still grimacing. "Cuz frankly I'm curious as hell."

  
She smirks at him nods her head. "Sure thing, Bigby." Arrogant shit. She's not even using her fake Homeland accent anymore. "But there's just one thing I've got to take care of first." Turning to gunman, she smiles. "Good work, John. I couldn't have done it without you."

  
The man nods shakily. He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by the hole that suddenly opens in his forehead. Bianca is still smiling when she lowers the little pistol. She only stares nonchalantly as the man collapses to the rooftop, crimson pooling around his head.

  
Bigby gapes. "What the hell did you do that for?!"

  
Bianca only shrugs. "Loose ends, you know how these things work. Man was a Mundy. I couldn't let him get away after seeing all our secrets." Casually, as if she didn't just shoot a man in cold blood, as if she isn't kneeling in a puddle of Bigby's blood either, Bianca sits down beside him. Her touch is almost tender as she leans over him, prodding at the gaping bullet wound on his side.

  
"Good news, it won't be fatal." She says happily. "Well, assuming you get a doctor to look at it within a few hours." Bianca glances over her shoulder and looks around at the barren rooftop. "Oh, right." She laughs and shakes her head. "Well, don't worry, I'll be sure to leave a note for Miss Snow so she can find your body."

  
Bigby growls at her and Bianca looks at him with surprise.

  
"Don't be like that, Sheriff. After all, you're the one who brought me here. You suspected me from the beginning and yet you kept me with you. And now here you are. I think that means something."

  
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Bigby snarls.

  
"Karma, Bigby." She says. "You took something from me and now I get to take something from you."

  
"And what did _I_ take from _you_?"

  
Suddenly, Bianca's smile fades. All joking aside. She turns and fishes through her pocket for a moment before producing what appears to be a photo. Although she doesn't show it to him at first. "It was a long time ago. So I don't really blame you for not remembering right away." Her thumb runs up the glossy surface of the picture and her eyes shine with sadness. Slowly, she turns it toward him. "This is what you took from me, Bigby Wolf."

  
The photo shows a girl who is obviously Bianca. She looks happy from where she's sitting on a cushy bed below an open window, her dark hair catching the golden light. Her eyes squinted mid-laugh. But she's not alone. There's a face a bit closer to the photo, a thumb obscuring the lower right corner. The person taking the picture isn't smiling at brilliantly as Bianca but there's a faint tug to her lips. Her other hand is holding up the peace sign and her tongue is sticking out. Maybe that's why Bianca is laughing.

  
Bigby feels ill seeing that face again after all these years.

  
"Do you recognize her?" Bianca asks softly and Bigby nods. His mind supplies the name before he even has to dig for it. Samaritana. Bigby had arrested her for murder a few years ago. Prior to the Crooked Man case last month, that was the last killing in Fabletown since the sixties... After a formal trial, the town had voted for her punishment. Bigby himself had thrown her down the Witching Well.

  
"Who was she to you?"

  
"My sister."

  
_A terrible monster had found Samantha on her way back to the woods and it killed her and threw her body down a deep, dark ravine._

  
_Never to be found again._

  
"You understand why I had to change the name." Bianca sighs, folding the picture back up and placing it back in her pocket. "Would have been a dead giveaway had I said the real one." Slowly, she stands up. The hem of her pants are wet with Bigby's blood. She folds her arms over her stomach and turns away. "Do you want to know the real title of my story, Sheriff?"

  
His head is spinning. What was in that bullet? "Sure."

  
"Biancabella and the Snake."


	5. Wolfsbane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long in the day to get out. I finished writing the chapter late last night and didn't get a chance to post it before work today. But here you go: the last chapter of Wolfsbane :)

Biancabella and the Snake. The story of the girl born with a serpent around her neck. The story of a girl who became so beautiful because of that snake--named Samaritana--that when her hair was combed, it shed jewels, and when her hands were washed, they shed flowers. Who unintentionally betrayed her serpentine sister by marrying a king and was nearly murdered for it. But Samaritana returned to save her from the jealous rage of the step mother. She abandoned her snake skin and became a woman, magically building a castle for she and her sister to live in, even graciously accepting the king to come with them as well.

  
Bigby only learned of Samaritana's fable after he had commited her to the Well. And even then, no one could find her sister, Biancabella. They all assumed she was still in the Homeland married to her king.

  
And yet here she is.

  
Standing above Bigby as he bleeds out onto the rooftop.

  
"Why did you kill her?" Biancabella demands, all the smug smiles from earlier forgotten and abandoned. Now her expression is like stone. Her eyes boring into his with a heat that matches even that the bullet under his skin.

  
"She was a murderer." He reminds her. "She had to face justice."

  
"You're a liar." She snarls. "Sam was no killer."

  
"I caught her red-handed. She was stabbing Rumpelstiltskin as I busted down the door--"

  
" _Liar_!" Her kick sends shockwaves of pain through his ribs. "Samaritana was a kind, forgiving, gracious person! She would never kill an innocent person!"

  
"Look, I don't know what brought her to murder but she _was_ guilty! I presented the evidence in front of the town and and everyone--"

  
" _Everyone_? No, not everyone, Wolf. Not me. You didn't think to contact the next of kin?! To even try to--"

  
"I didn't know who she was! She wouldn't tell me her real name or what her story was. How was I supposed to--"

  
"Shut _up_!" Another kick. Another wave of fire. There are tears in her eyes now. "My sister was the only person I had in this world. She cared for me even when my spineless husband was too much of a coward to flee the Homelands to be with me. She was there even when I was too sick to travel. She never abandoned me. But _you_ took her away." She kicks him again and this time he feels a definite crack in his ribs. It's not only his fingers that are paralyzed now. Both of his arms are numb and he can't feel his anything below his knees.

  
"You're a monster, Wolf." She hisses. "You didn't have to kill the Crooked Man. You could have let Greenleaf imprison him. But no. Instead you put him down the Well. And you didn't have to kill my sister either. But you did. Because as much that _bitch_ Snow White would like to think otherwise, you're still just the _Big Bad Wolf_ down inside."

  
Biancabella's smile returns now. But it's twisted. Going over to the dead body of her hired gunman, she picks up his pistol out of his cold hand. She releases the clip and pops one of the rounds out into her palm. Holding it up into the sunlight, she shows it to him. "I was going to make silver ones, you know." She says. "But that would have killed you too quickly. We wouldn't have been able to have a decent conversation."

  
She turns her head to look at him when he doesn't reply. Sighing, she shakes her head at something she sees. "You know what these are made of?"

  
He doesn't answer her. His lungs feels heavy.

  
"Copper, like any other bullet." She knees beside him again, this time, her knees become soaked in his blood. "But you see this?" She runs her finger across the butt of the round. It's a slightly different color, as if it was made at a different time. She twists it and it pops off, releasing a little cloud of purple dust into her waiting hand.

  
Bigby's throat clenches just from being near it.

  
"I wasn't entirely sure if this would work, to be honest. That's why I didn't just shoot you myself. That's why I needed John. So he could take the fall if it didn't effect you." Shaking the dust from her hand, Biancabella tosses the empty casing over her shoulder and smiles at him. "But I guess the legends are true. Silver isn't your only weakness." She stands up then. "Wolfsbane works just as well. I guess I have Snow to thank for that. She made you less than what you used to be when she cut you with that knife. Maybe if she hadn't, you wouldn't be dying now." Biancabella chuckles to herself as picks up Bigby's dead arm. "Maybe I should send her a thank you note when this is all over with."

  
"What...are you...doing?" He wheezes.

  
"I'm not an idiot, Bigby." She says. "I know you're a lot stronger than you appear. Hell, the Woodsman cut your stomach open, filled it with rocks and drowned you and yet here you are. I'm finishing what I started. I won't give you the chance to come back."

  
With a surprising amount of strength for such a frail-looking girl, Biancabella manages to pull him to his feet. She slips his arm over her shoulders and drags him toward the edge of the roof. "I'm putting you where you belong, Dog. Down the same hole you dropped my sister."

* * *

  
"Bigby!" Snow jolts upright from her spot beside Grimble when Bianca comes stumbling in, the wounded sheriff leaning heavily on her shoulder. A blood stain soaking his shirt. "What happened?!" She demands.

  
"Don't worry, Miss White." Bianca says. "We lost the shooter's scent about a few blocks from here. Since then, we've been in this little bar called the Trip Trap." At the eyebrow Snow raises in disbelief, Bianca chuckles. "In his...excitement to catch the gunman, Mr. Wolf managed to reopen his wounds. I suggested getting something to drink to help the pain...I suppose he went a little overboard while I was talking to bartender, Holly."

  
_Don't believe her, Snow..._

  
Snow huffs out an irritated sigh and folds her arms over her chest. "Real professional, Mr. Wolf." She grumbles. "Well, go get some rest and sober up a little. We've got to get back on his trail as soon as possible. Should I call Doctor Swineheart to have another look at those injuries?"

  
"That won't be necessary, Miss White. I do know a few things about medicine, myself. I can handle it and I'll make sure he gets some sleep." Bianca says as she jabs the elevator button.

  
"Very well. Please see that he does."

  
The elevator dings and Bianca pulls him inside, the doors sliding shut just as Snow sits back down beside Grimble, her eyes focused entirely on the security monitors.

  
_Dammit._

* * *

  
The Witching Well chamber has never felt so cold. As soon as the elevator doors slide open, Bianca shoves Bigby out. Without the feeling in his legs, he collapses to the floor, his ears ringing as the Wolfsbane poisoning works through his bloodstream.

  
It's not much further now.

  
His head is spinning and the fire under his skin has become a raging inferno. It hurts to even breathe. Biancabella grabs Bigby's ankle and drags him toward the Well. He tries to fight. To kick or squirm or move at all...but his entire body is numb. Paralyzed.

  
He sees the Witching Well through blurry vision, getting closer and closer by the second. He wills his claws to grow in, for grey hair to sprout from his skin, but nothing happens. The poison has muzzled his inner wolf. He's stuck in his human form, paralyzed and getting closer and closer to death each second.

  
Bianca finally releases him once they've reached the base of the Well. "Bigby?" She asks quietly. "Are you still awake?" It's only then that he realizes his eyes are closed. He doesn't try to open them. Maybe if he pretends to be unconscious, it will buy him some time to think of a way out of this. Unfortunately, Bianca isn't having any of that.

  
He hears the silenced gunshot before he feels it. But a second later, pain erupts in his leg. He doesn't cry out, he refuses. But his eyes do snap open and he sees Bianca smirking at him.

  
"Just stay awake for a few seconds longer." She instructs him, leaning down to heft him to his feet. His body goes with her like a rag doll, his head dangling back as she lifts him onto the edge of the Witching Well. "Goodbye, Wolf." She hisses. "This is for Samarita--"

  
_BANG!_

  
Bianca's body jerks forward, her eyes snapping wide open with shock. She turns slowly, touching the bloody hole in the back of her thigh. The pistol reports two more times and finally, Bianca falls to the ground. Two figures rush forward from the door. One of them goes for Bianca, pulling her away from Bigby, while the other runs right for the Sheriff himself.

  
Snow drops the gun on the ground and carefully pulls Bigby away from the Well, setting him on the floor instead. His head lulls forward against his chest but he feels the gentle touch of her palm on his cheek. "Bigby...?" She asks quietly. Or maybe loudly. Under the ring in his ears, everything sounds muffled... "Bigby? Can you hear me?"

  
He tries to respond but nothing comes out. He knows how this must look to her... Him all covered in blood, motionless, silent...about to be dumped down the Witching Well. He feels her ear against his chest and then she's slapping his cheeks, trying to wake him. But he already is awake. He just can't move...

  
"Grimble!" She calls and the other person comes forward.

  
"Is he alive?" The security guard asks.

  
"Yes. Call Doctor Swineheart."

  
Slowly, Bigby's world turns on its side and then he's staring at the ceiling, unblinking. Snow's face hovering above him. "What did she do to you...?" She obivously doesn't expect an answer but he tries anyway. He's able to gather little more than a wheeze... He tastes blood.

  
"Swineheart will be here in a minute." Grimble says as he returns to the room.

  
"Good. Thank you." Snow's hand is still cupping his cheek, the other resting just above his heart, which flutters weakly in his ribs. "Grimble--"

  
"Ughh..." Both the deputy mayor and the security officer turn at the sound of the moan behind them. Bianca squrims for a moment when she wakes up, her eyes blinking open. It seems to take a second for her to realize she's handcuffed... But when she does, she jerks and pulls against her binds, wincing as some blood seeps down from the gunshot on her shoulder. "Ahhh, Snow White, you bitch! You shot me!"

  
"Don't be such a baby." Snow replies coldly without even looking at her. "You're a Fable, you'll heal fast."

  
"It still hurts..." Bianca shifts, flinching in pain again. "How did you know...we were down here...?"

  
"You hit the _down button_ on the key pad." Snow rolls her eyes. "Bigby lives three floors _up_."

  
"And the gun...? Do you always just carry that around?"

  
"It's not mine. It's Grimble's."

  
"But you shot it. Why did you--"

  
"You said you were down at the Trip Trap and he got carried away and got drunk. Except Bigby can't actually get drunk." Standing up and turning on her heel, she folds her arms angrilly over her chest. "Frankly, you should count yourself lucky I don't feel like the extra paperwork. Otherwise, it might be you down the Witching Well right now. Any other questions?"

  
Bianca wisely closes her mouth at that. But she continues glaring heatedly at her as Grimble hauls her to her feet.

  
"Take her to the detention cell but stay with her. One criminal has already escaped, I don't want to risk another."

  
Grimble nods and pulls Bianca out the door, leaving a thin trail of blood behind. As soon as they're gone, Snow kneels down beside Bigby again. Her hands are gentle as she lifts the hem of his shirt, revealing the blood-soaked wound on his abdomen. Her breath catches in her throat and Bigby nearly blacks out at the sight of it.

  
The veins around the bullet hole are an angry purple, vining nearly halfway up his chest and--though he doubts Snow can pick up on it--the blood that seeps from the wound smells acidic and poisonous. But also floral. Like the wolfsbane that's running through his system.

  
Snow covers her mouth and looks away. A second later, Bigby hears footsteps hurriedly coming toward them.

  
"I apologize for the delay." Swineheart says as he takes Snow's place in front of Bigby, the deputy mayor shifting aside to give him room. Bigby doesn't miss the way the doctor's eyes hang on the injury for a fraction of a second too long before popping open his briefcase and removing a handful of sharp sticks and odd looking tools that he can't imagine have any practical use. "Miss White, I may need your help with this one."

  
"Anything." She says eagerly.

  
"Has he said anything to you? Do you know what he was poisoned with?"

  
"Poisoned...? No. Nothing, I'm not even sure he's entirely conscious."

  
"Hm, then that makes this a little more difficult." Swineheart takes his pliers and moves for the bullet and Bigby is oddly grateful he can't feel the cold metal under his skin, digging and prying... "I'll need to run a few tests on the casing, to identify the toxin. Although that may take some time..."

  
_Hell...we don't have time for this..._

  
"How long, exactly...?" Snow asks quietly. "Will he...?"

  
"I don't know, Miss White." The doctor replies honestly. "But I can't very well sew up his injury until I've neutrilized the poison. It would do him no good. Our only option is to proceed and hope he's able to--"

  
_Hell with it..._ "Wolfs... _urgg_...bane..." The sheriff grinds out, feeling his mouth fill with blood. Speaking is like dragging a knife up and down his throat... Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to get the word out. Somehow he manages, coughing and spitting the redness from his throat.

  
Snow gasps, hearing his voice, and stares wide eyed as blood drips from Bigby's lips. She whispers something that might have been his name.

  
"Did he say wolfsbane?" Swineheart asks, turning to Snow.

  
"I...I think so..." She breathes, not taking her eyes off of the sheriff.

  
"Well done, Bigby," The doctor says. "That makes this a bit easier."

  
_Happy to help..._

  
"Alright, lay him on his side." Swineheart instructs, placing the bullet casing and his pliers down beside him. He and Snow carefully turn Bigby onto his uninjured side and immediately breathing becomes easier. Not less painful. Just easier.

  
The doctor returns to his briefcase then and draws out a little vial of purple liquid. At Snow's questioning look, he explains. "A magic elixer. Expensive but worth it." He uncorks the vial and a puff of steam or mist lifts from the top, spilling over the sides. "It only works with only the most dangerous of toxins. In that sense, it's a good thing wolfsbane was used." Tipping the bottle, the liquid pours over the bullet wound, mingling with the poisonous blood and remnants of dust still left on the sheriff's skin. "Otherwise, we would have had to take him back to my office...or wait for someone to fetch another elixir."

  
The way he speaks... So casual, so professional. Like Bigby isn't writhing in agony below him. Because he was fairly certain his skin couldn't get any hotter. He was pretty sure whatever the wolfsbane was doing to him, nothing could be worse. Except maybe silver. But this damned elixir isn't silver. So what gives it the right to burn so bad?!

  
"Doctor..." Snow urges nervously at the sight of Bigby squirming in pain.

  
"Just relax, Miss Snow. The potion is taking effect."

  
Snow is quiet for a moment but after a few seconds, the sound of Bigby's tormented groans becomes too much. Standing up, she paces a few feet away and wrings her hands uneasily. "What does the elixir do, exactly?" She asks, just to distract herself.

  
"It neutralizes all vicious toxins in the bloodstream. Unfortunately, the process does tend to cause a great deal of pain." Seeing the deputy mayor's obvious distress, the doctor adds, "It should be over soon."

  
Only about three seconds later, the burning heat under Bigby's skin is replaced by a cool numbness. He breathes out a sigh of relief and lets his eyes open so he's staring out across the room. Immediately, Snow is kneeling beside him again.

  
"Bigby? Are you alright?"

  
"Ughh...peachy." He doesn't even try to sit up. He knows he won't be able to.

  
"What do you feel at the site of the injury? Pain? Tingling?" Swineheart quizzes.

  
"Eh, not much. It's kinda cold..."

  
"Perfectly normal, then. A few hours rest and you'll be right as rain."

  
Bigby huffs out another sigh and nods his head. "I ever tell you you're a miracle worker, Doc?"

  
"Not in so many words."

  
Bigby snickers quietly as the doctor stands up, placing all of his instruments back into his briefcase. Only now does he attempt to move. But only because Snow is hovering still and despite the light conversation, she still looks beside herself with worry.

  
He tries--and fails--to sit up, at first. Only managing to get a scolding remark from Swineheart about staying still for now. But, stubborn as always, Bigby finally succeeds in pushing himself up to lean his back against the Witching Well. True, it leaves him dizzy but it's worth it. Snow might chide him for not listening to the doctor but she looks less uneasy than before, knowing he's well enough to be disobedient, at least.

  
"I'll stay and see you to your apartment as soon as you're able, but once you're settled in, I'll return to my office." The doctor says. "The elixir will fix you up just fine, you won't be needing my help."

  
"Thank you, Doctor Swineheart." Snow says earnestly and Bigby grunts in agreement.

* * *

  
In all honesty, Bigby is fine after a few hours. The elixer--as hellish as it was at the time--really knocked the wolfsbane out of him and by nightfall, he feels good as new. But it takes two days to convince Snow--and Colin--that he's feeling up to attending the trial. And that night, most of Fabletown is crowded in the Witching Well chamber, Snow and Bigby standing side by side in front of all of them. Behind them, Bianca is handcuffed and looking a little more than pissed...

  
"Thank you for joining us this evening." Snow begins. "I know each and every one of you have become concerned about the rash of thefts and vandalisms of late. Thanks to the work of Sheriff Wolf, the accused stands before you, ready for the judgement of the town."

  
At the rumble of accusations that go through the crowd, Snow takes out a folded piece of paper from her pocket.

  
"I will begin reading the charges. Biancabella," Snow says, firmly. "You have been charged with several counts of theft and vandalism--"

  
"That wasn't me." Bianca interrupts angrily. "That was John."

  
"Yeah. A _Mundy_ who you hired _and_ aided. Not only did you risk revealing all of Fabletown to the Mundane world, you _also_ helped him preform these criminal acts." Bigby snaps in response.

  
"Bullsh--"

  
"Face it. No Mundy could have pulled off the stunts it would have taken to get away from the crimes unseen. You provided him with magic."

  
"Prove it." Bianca hisses.

  
Bigby shakes his head and holds out his hand to Snow. She places something within it. Holding out the token carved of wood, Bigby raises his eyebrows. "We found this on you, remember? A magic token from the Homelands. A Fable would have no use of it. You gave one to John, right?"

  
Bianca glares heatedly at him but doesn't argue. There's no point.

  
"Right then, back to the charges." Snow continues. "Beside the theft and vandal, you are also charged with endangering the integrity of Fabletown by revealing your nature to a human, possession of illegal magical artifacts and substances, unregistered firearms...and the attempted murder of Sheriff Bigby Wolf." Lowering the list, Snow asks, "Would you like to say anything before the town consults on your punishment?"

  
Bianca doesn't reply immediately and Snow almost gives up waiting for her. But a few seconds of silence later, and Bianca lifts her head to stare hatefully at Bigby. "Yeah, I would like to say something." The room goes quiet at her words. "I know I'm going to die. Just the first few charges are enough. But I would like to point out that--unlike some people in this room--I'm no monster."

  
Bigby frowns and folds his arms. But doesn't say anything.

  
"I did what I did for a reason. Because your dear, beloved sheriff killed my sister. And sure, he calls it justice, claims she was a killer. But I know Sam. She was a kind, gentle person and she wouldn't hurt a _fly_! I don't believe a word he says about her. And neither should any of you. Because deep down, you all know...he's still just the _Big Bad Wolf_."

  
" _That_ is enough." Snow cuts in. "Bianca, I know you loved your sister and I wanted to spare you from ever having to know this but...for the sake of the sheriff's integrity and the sanity of this town, there is something you should know about Samaritana."

  
"Oh? And what would that be, _Princess_?"

  
"She, along with many other members of this community, was under the thumb of the Crooked Man. In order to get you the medicine you needed to overcome your illness, she turned to the Crooked Man for financial assistance. In return, she became one of his hit men. Using her magic, she killed three innocent Fables in his name. Not just one."  
At the look of horror on Bianca's face, Bigby nudges Snow, telling her to stop. But she doesn't. The town needs to hear this.

  
"Sheriff Wolf had been investigating the crimes for months until he finally managed to track Samaritana down. He'd been hoping to stop her before she claimed another victim but, unfortunately, one more fell to her powers before he was able to take her into custody. The town voted on Samaritana's fate and she was committed to the Witching Well, where she belonged. Bigby didn't kill her, Bianca. He's no monster."

  
Biancabella lowers her head. "Bullshit." The word cracks with her voice.

  
"I'm sorry." Snow sighs, turning back to the crowd. "All in favor of committing Biancabella's body to the Witching Well?"

  
A murmur of agreement rumbles through the crowd so Bigby takes a step toward Bianca. His grip is firm but strangely gentle as he takes her arm and steers her toward the Well.  
"For what it's worth," He says softly. "I don't think she was a monster either. She was only trying to help you."

  
Bianca looks at him for a moment. Her expression broken, her eyes watery. She nods. "Neither do I." She steps up onto the rim of the Well and closes her eyes. Not even Bigby's ears are strong enough to hear her hit the ground.

* * *

  
It's four a.m. at the business office when Bufkin finally returns from the archives with the second book of Fable records. He lands clumsily on the edge of Snow's desk, looking melancholy as always whenever they have to do this.

  
"Bigby." Snow calls and the sheriff lifts his head from where it had been reclined against the back of his chair. Standing slowly, he shoves his hands in his pockets and makes his way to the desk, where Snow has opened the book to the right page...

  
The photo of Bianca shows her smiling brilliantly. She's wearing a tank top. And for the first time, Bigby is able to see the snake tattoo around her neck. Snow sighs heavily as she picks up the stamp.

  
"How did everything go so wrong...?" She wonders sadly as she presses the DECEASED mark over the page.

  
"I don't know." Bigby replies distantly. He watches Snow out of the corner of his eye as she tosses the stamp back into its drawer and sinks down into her chair, resting her heavy eyelids as she massages the migraine out of her temples. Losing a Fable always hits her hard. He wonders if he should say something to comfort her. He can't think of anything that won't sound like a half-baked attempt at flirting so he decides against it.

  
Instead, his eyes drift back to the book. His own section is only a few pages away. He's never looked at it. He only gets a few pages away when a pale hand closes around his wrist. Looking up, he finds Snow frowning at him.

  
"I'd...rather not tempt fate by looking...you know?" She says.

  
He hesitates, wondering how she knew what he was a doing, but nods. "Yeah." Closing the book, he hands it back to Bufkin, who flaps off toward the archives again. He wouldn't want to see Snow's page in the books, either. Scratching at the stubble on his chin, he chews on the inside of his cheek for a few indecisive seconds before saying, "You look exhausted, Snow. Why don't you go get a few hours of shut eye. Bufkin and I will handle the office until you get back."

  
"You and Bufkin?" She asks, almost laughing. "No thanks, I'll get a nap around lunchtime, like usual."

  
Shrugging, Bigby sticks a cigarette between his teeth and heads for the door. But he stops when Snow calls his name. Is it just him or does she look kind of...sheepish?  
"We still have a lot of paperwork to catch up on and this whole Bianca-thing set us pretty far behind. And I did promise Doctor Swineheart I'd keep an eye on you until you recover so, if you don't mind that is, I'll, um, stop by your office later?"

  
Bigby raises his eyebrows but nods. "Sure thing, Snow..."

  
She smiles at him and then sits down in her chair. "I'll bring coffee."

  
"Sounds good." The door clicks shut behind him as he lights his cigarette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I ever get better at endings? Probably not XD


End file.
